


oil + water dripping....

by pxincessofcolor



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxincessofcolor/pseuds/pxincessofcolor
Summary: They haven't left on their honeymoon just yet. They spend their very first night as man and wife in their loft apartment.





	oil + water dripping....

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: All of this WestAllen stuff going on lately really inspired me. So, I wrote this. I apologize for any typos.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not have connection to The Flash (TV Show) nor any of it's characters. This is a work of fiction.

She has no logical reason to be nervous. And yet… Iris looks herself again in the full length mirror. She remembered doing this a few weeks ago in her wedding dress, the first one, not the final. And now here she was a married woman in her married loft before her married honeymoon on her wedding night. Barry is never the type to attempt to push her to wear lingerie...or even really do anything she didn’t feel comfortable doing, one of the many reasons she adores him. Even when she is comfortable, he’s always checking in, making sure. She turns to her side, looking again. She hears Barry downstairs, walking around. She convinced him to stay downstairs while she finished getting his “surprise” ready. She wants to be the romantic one for once. She wants to be the one to throw herself at his feet. She wants to completely--or try her damnedest--to outdo him. The white and sheer negligee comes to her upper thighs and a lace garter adorns each light brown thigh shortly after it ends. Lace panties are underneath, the only thing really preventing him from being hit with her nude body at one time. She pulls her hair down and lets it fall as far as it can: loose around her head. 

 

This is their first time. But she feels those butterflies all again. Her stomach flips again, when her thumb runs over the back of her wedding ring.  _ You are actually married to the love of your life _ , her brain screams. Followed shortly by,  _ Don’t you DARE fuck this up; this is night of you all’s dreams. _ Iris lights the candles she placed in part of the room, making sure to keep them in good, safe places. She wants--needs--nothing to go wrong. She wants to spend the entire with Barry. She thanked Wally and Cisco earlier for taking over Flash duties for the night (and for their honeymoon) earlier then silenced her phone. She grabbed the bag of dried rose petals she bought from the florist a few days beforehand, tossing some onto the bed then on the floor leading up to the bed. She tosses a little less in the doorway and the stairs. “Barry, your surprise is ready,” she calls, after sitting on their bed and resting her hands behind her. She doesn’t bother to tell him to run slow. He superspeeds upstairs and she’s thankful because it doesn’t give the anxiety to set back in. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly. “Just so we’re clear, this  _ isn’t _ your only wedding gift from me.” 

 

The shocked look leaves his face, turning into a smile. “Trust me, this,” he walks toward her, slipping off his tuxedo jacket and throwing it to the floor and begins slipping off his suspenders, “is enough.” He leans down, pushing her back on their bed, kissing her deeply, quickly. He moves to the side of her neck and Iris releases a soft moan and long sigh, lifting up toward him. 

 

   “Cisco and Wally are on Flash duties. We have all night,” she said, breathless. He pulls away and looks at her. 

   “You’re a genius, Mrs. West-Allen.” 

   “I get it from my husband.” She pushes herself on her elbows and kisses him, her legs spreading farther apart. He kisses her neck then chest, moving down her body. 

 

    “Does this thing tear easily?” He smirks when he looks up at her from her stomach.

 

Iris gasps. “Bartholomew,” she says with warning. 

 

   “Iris Ann,” he retorts, joking. 

 

His pale hands push the bottom of the thin material up and he’s kissing her inner thighs, sucking gently at the skin there. Her head rolls back. She smiles fondly. She remembers when they first started dating and he had qualms about leaving hickeys where people (specifically, Joe) could see them; she jokingly suggested her thighs. “I still think about the first time you left marks there and how I thought about you my thighs touched,” she says aloud without realizing. 

 

His pink lips turn upward in a smirk against her darker toned skin. “Iris,” he pauses, “I’m trying _really_ hard to be romantic here.” 

 

She grabs him by his chin, making him sit up as well as sitting up herself. She begins to undo the buttons of his tuxedo shirt. “Barry Allen,” she smiles, “you’re the _most_ romantic person I’ve ever known.” She leans close, her voice becoming a whisper. “Whether we’re fucking each other’s brains out or making love.”  Her fingers run down his bare chest before removing the shirt and him helping her toss it to the floor. 

 

 “So, then, it wouldn’t ruin the mood to say that right now I want nothing than to eat you out.” A certain part of her lower tingled at his words but she tried to play it off by laughing. 

 

 “Not even close.” She grabbed his shoulders and flipped them so she was on top. She stood on her knees and slipped off the small outfit, throwing in the mass of clothes collecting on the floor. She leans down to his ear. “But tonight is about you just as it me.” She drags his mouth down his chest, stopping to kiss each of his nipples. Her mouth lands on his abs. She makes eye contact with him as his breath hitches and his stomach jerks at the movements of her mouth. “Excited for me?” 

“Not funny,” he warns and she smiles. 

 

She continues kissing downward, coming to his belt. She undos the buckle, slowly, torturously, and throws it over to the side once he lifts up and it’s out of the loops. She kisses the outside of his boxers and she feels his cock twitch against her mouth already. She lowers his pants a little further and moves her tongue along the bulge again, and Barry bites his bottom lip, clutching the bed spread. She removes his pants, leaving him solely in boxers and tosses them behind her where she vaguely remembered the shirt and jacket were. So long as the tuxedo wasn’t destroyed, they can get their deposit back. Her fingers tap against his upper thighs, heading steadily toward to the top of his boxer shorts. She pulls his shorts down with the same, dangerously slow speed she used to remove his belt, his cock falling to the side, already halfway, if not a little further, hard. 

 

Iris remembers somewhere online that the color of someone’s tip was the same color of their lips; she didn’t know if it was true for everyone, but for Barry, in this moment, it was. His lips were flushed pink as was the tip of his cock. She wraps her hands around the base, running her thumb against the back of it, before letting her tongue bathe the underside of it all the way to the tip then back down. She allows her tongue to wrap around him, before inserting him into her mouth. She flexes her tongue differently at different sections as her head moves up then back down. Her hands move circular motions around his dick and he jerks in response to all of her actions, hitting the back of her throat. She begins to move her tongue and head at a somewhat quicker rate and sees him grip the comforter with enough strength a vein shows in his hands. 

 

“Iris…” he says repeatedly, quick. He usually uses that as his warning that he about to come, and if she wants to move, she can. She doesn’t want to.

_Do it_ , she thinks, _it’s fine; I want it._ She makes eye contact with him as he looks down and his falls back as he seemed to mumble something along the lines of “Fuck...me..”. All the previous holding back he did falls away and his hips begin to rapidly jerk in quick succession and a low guttural moan starts in his throat. Thick fluid enters Iris mouth and she takes it, sending it down her throat. She pulls back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “How was tha-” She doesn’t have time to finish her question before Barry is pulling her down on top of him, kissing her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth. His hands move to the lace panties that still on, pulling them down with her help, dropping off to the side. “Do you need time?” she asks. She knows Barry’s refractory period is already short time but it still hadn’t been that long. He flips them, placing himself on top, and she bounces into him at the force, their lips connecting. He slides into her with ease and her mouth drops open at the feeling, her toes curling in reflex. Jesus, she thinks. 

 

Barry moves slowly but deeply, spreading her thighs and Iris wraps her arms around his neck. When he feels he moved in her enough to not cause her pain, he moves her legs over his shoulders. Her head falls back. “ _God_ , I love when you fuck me like this,” she says, lost in the passion of it all.  

 

“And I will be, for the rest of our lives,” he says, kissing the part of her neck that was the most accessible to him, pausing in his movements  briefly. “Along with kissing you, holding you, spending time with you, forever.” Iris pulls him to her, lengthening their kiss. 

 

 “I love you,” she states, kissing his chin. 

 

  “I love you too.” He begins to move again, almost punishing. She can tell he’s trying to get them both there, and she wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to but her breath keeps catching in her throat at each rub against her g-spot. She knows he’s close, not that she isn’t far away from an orgasm herself. 

 

 “You don’t have to mak--” He kisses her, stopping her. The moan that was going to fall out of her mouth, being covered. That was him ending that discussion. Iris ran her fingers along his back, scratching it. “Shhhhhii…” She bites down on his shoulder. He pulls her back, pinning her hands by her side. 

 

 “I want to hear you. Everything.” He doesn’t kiss her mouth but every surrounding area his lips can find, still thrusting deeply, he moves his hand downward,  his thumb moving between them and stroking her clit in quick circles. He’s control. She has one of her hands freed but doesn’t bother to move it, now knowing Barry’s request. Her other frees when he reaches up to place his hand on the headboard. They move together roughly, harshly.

 

Iris first feels the wave of her orgasm hit her and the moan that leaves her is sharp. She comes shortly after, hard. “Fuck…” She arches up in her husband, kissing him as she finishes, her heels running the back of his thighs gently. She feels him jolt and shudder along with the twitch inside her. She feels him go soft but he doesn’t move yet. He looks at her with dazed eyes and she’s sure she has them as well. 

 “Thank you,” he said, smiling. 

 

 “Like I said, this isn’t your only present from me.” They kiss again. 

 

 “I’d perfectly happy if you were my gift every single time.” 


End file.
